Chris Bonds responds to me:

>>Contrast this with Kondrashin's studio recording [of Sym 13], which nails
>>the listener to the wall with what sounds like every basso in the Soviet
>>Union rounded up and singing like his life depended upon it.  (Maybe it
>>did!)
>
>I've done a bit of searching for this (either the premiere or the studio)
>and found a used Everest stereo which was offered in response to my request
>for "Shostakovich Symphony 13 "Babi Yar", Moscow Philharmonic, Kondrashin,
>Russian Disc # 11191 [the premiere recording I think].  Do you know
>anything about this Everest disc? Is it really stereo?

The Everest disc is electronically rechanneled stereo.  It was produced
from a mono tape of the 1st night premiere concert smuggled out of the
Soviet Union.  Because the 2 concerts of the premiere series were given
under a cloud of disapproval from the authorities, the "official" recording
of the 2nd night performance, which was taped by Moscow Radio in genuine
two-channel stereo, remained locked away in a vault somewhere.  Officially,
one might say, it didn't exist.  In the aftermath of the breakup of the
Soviet Union, the Russian Disc company located the master tape and obtained
clearance to release it commercially.  It is not perfect by any means.  The
sound engineer does a lot of level adjusting as the Symphony progresses,
and the Russian Disc remastering does not completely do away with the
audible artifacts of knob-twisting.  Nevertheless, it is an absolutely
spellbinding performance.  Remember that the premiere was planned at first
to be conducted by Mravinsky and the bass soloist was (I forget the name)
to be a leading singer of the Bolshoi.  As news of the rehearsals spread
around, the Word came down to Yevtushenko, the author of the texts:  revise
or cancel.  Yevtushenko and Shostakovich refused.  Within days of the
performance, under tremendous pressure from the government, Mravinsky
withdrew--Shostakovich never really forgave the conductor for this.  Kirill
Kondrashin agreed to step in, so that the show could go on.  Next to be
pressured was the soloist, who, then, also withdrew.  Vitaly Gromadsky
was the young basso who was asked to learn this incredibly involved and
difficult music literally hours before the performance, which he did with
the direct coaching from the composer.

The actual performance is a hair-raising, seat of the pants explosion of
emotion.  The singing of Gromadsky is nothing short of phenomenal:  very
emotional; scenery-chewing histrionics and all; but it works.  The male
choir and orchestra play their hearts out, too.  All in all, this is one
of the great recordings of the 20th century.

A few years later Kondrashin persuaded the Melodiya brass and the Kultur
ministry to allow a studio recording of Babi Yar.  This time, Kondrashin
accepted a minor modification of the Yevtushenko text to gain permission
for the recording.  This studio effort is even finer, if you can believe
it, with a consistent analog stereo taping, an equally fine--if more
musically controlled soloist--and an even greater male chorus.

I would not be without both discs:  the Russian Disc for the unforgettable
atmosphere of the 1962 premiere, and the BMG/Melodiya for the better
balance of musical values vs.  raw emotion, and a better recording.

Regards,

John M. Proffitt
General Manager & C.E.O.
Radio Station KUHF-FM